


our hearts are overlapping

by serendipitee



Category: GOT7
Genre: BDSM, Barebacking, Cock & Ball Torture, Daddy Kink, Derogatory Language, Dom Drop, Explicit Sexual Content, Face Slapping, M/M, Verbal Humiliation, brat taming, master kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-02 20:09:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18818122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitee/pseuds/serendipitee
Summary: It goes something like this:Jaebeom likes being told what to do.





	our hearts are overlapping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [subsequence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/subsequence/gifts).



>   
>  **_!!! Please, please tell me if there is anything in here I have not tagged that you would like in the work tags. !!!_ **   
> 
> 
> GOOD JOB MIA I'M PROUD OF U FOR GOING BACK TO SCHOOL have some gratuitous smut
> 
> title from [focus on me](https://youtu.be/uf27Hxrglrk) by some new rookie group i've never heard of

It goes something like this:

Jaebeom likes being told what to do.

The thing is, although he wants it, and needs it, and when he gets it he melts under it, it’s hard for him to admit it to himself or to anyone else. Even when Mark can sense it crawling under his skin in the way that he gets too snappy with the maknaes fooling around during dance practices, when he starts getting antsy between interviews, when he carries around the sleepless nights around comeback seasons in the drooping line of his broad shoulders. 

He goes through so much thinking he will and should be able to deal with everything on his own. But time and again they remind him that’s not the case. They both — they all — believe deep to their bones that he could do anything he sets his mind to; but he will never, ever have to do it alone.

Jinyoung and Mark had an arrangement established long before this came to light. A product of long days and nights spent trapped in the same places together, the frustration of being unable to date how and when they wanted to, and just plain old admiration for each other. They're best friends and they fuck every so often, secure in the knowledge that they love each other no matter what. Solid. A foothold in a life that often feels immense and unscalable. 

Jaebeom had come along later. Jaebeom had walked in on them with slick mouths all over each other and tossed and turned for weeks about it, prowling around like a caged animal constantly until the truth came to light: he knew they were fucking and he was jealous. That he didn’t have that, or them, or some combination of the two. 

He screamed in Mark’s face. He yelled until he couldn’t anymore and when he was done he cried and broke open and they held him close when he told them. He felt lonely. He felt like he was adrift. He felt like he was drowning.

Now, they keep each other afloat.

And Jaebeom doesn’t always _need_ this — this attention, this kind of submission, this kind of control over him — but when he does, Jinyoung and Mark are always more than happy to provide it.

Now if only he would stop being such a _brat_ about it. Even when he’s already half-hard, even when Jinyoung’s already pried him open and stuffed him with a plug, he still wants to talk back.

Good thing they like a challenge.

“Wow,” Jinyoung says, voice warm and deep as always, nearly soft in his throat. The line of him is lithe and long, laid out on Mark’s king bed, familiar and comfortable in his nakedness. “You really need this, don’t you hyung?”

Jaebeom is purposefully uncomfortable, kneeling next to him stripped just as bare. He swallows loudly enough for Mark to hear it across the room, sitting fully dressed in the armchair facing the bed. Then he lies through his teeth: “No.”

Jinyoung traces a long, slender finger down the underside of his small cock. It’s red and leaking, and when Jinyoung gathers it all in his fist and starts stroking Jaebeom lets out a puff of air that’s nearly a whine.

And he says he doesn’t need it. Jinyoung laughs. “Liar.”

“Fuck you,” Jaebeom snarls. He strains his arms, testing the hold of the thick leather cuffs around his wrists like they’ll release if he pulls hard enough. 

They won’t. He’s stuck like that, trussed up with his hands behind his back.

Jinyoung’s eyes narrow. His hand slows on Jaebeom’s cock, grip tightening like a vice, constricting like a deadly snake. “That’s no way to speak to your daddy, now is it, baby?” 

Mark watches dispassionately as Jaebeom’s eyes dart over to him. Like Mark’s gonna save him. “Answer the question.”

Jaebeom’s skin goes blotchy, annoyed edging toward angry. “Fuck you too.”

Mark sees it before Jaebeom does, and he doesn’t even get the chance to flinch before Jinyoung’s smacking him soundly across the face. The sound of it cracks through the room, echoing off of the walls and Jaebeom bites off a shout, blood rushing and blooming right under the pretty, fair skin of his cheek. 

He doesn’t double over though, not until Jinyoung squeezes his cock brutally hard. His knuckles turn white as Jaebeom yelps and yells and squirms, voice getting louder and more wavering the longer he’s being punished. 

“Remember who you’re talking to, bitch,” Jinyoung mutters against his temple, hot and menacing. “Don’t forget who owns you.”

Jaebeom wheezes, gasps for air like he’s been kicked in the chest. “Please, please, fuck, I’m sorry.” Mark’s eyebrow twitches; usually it takes him longer to get to this point and apologize.

“You’re sorry? For what?” Jinyoung loosens his hand in encouragement — he likes playing with his food.

“I’m sorry I cursed.”

Wrong answer. Jinyoung rubs his thumb under the head of Jaebeom’s cock, a sweet little move paired with the sweetness of his voice. “Is that it?”

Jaebeom’s jaw clenches. “Yes.” 

Mark clicks his tongue, disapproving. He raises the newspaper in his hands so that he can only see the top of Jinyoung’s head. 

Behind the newsprint, Jinyoung slaps Jaebeom again. He can hear scuffling and groaning, a whimper and then: “Kneel. On the floor.”

“What if I don’t want to?” The rough tease in Jaebeom’s voice dies off after a millisecond, rising into a moan. It sounds muffled, almost; Mark wonders idly whether Jinyoung stuffed fingers in Jaebeom’s mouth, or if he put a hand around his throat to cut off the constant backtalk. It’s what Mark would do.

The bedsprings creak. “There you go. Isn’t that better?”

“Are you going to fuck my face or n —” Jaebeom cuts himself off with a gasp, and Mark envisions what they must look like: Jinyoung with a fistful of Jaebeom’s hair, yanking him forward and sliding his fat cock into Jaebeom’s gaping mouth. The wet squelch and gag that follows says that his instinct is right.

Jaebeom's blowjobs are a thing of beauty — he is incredible at giving head and he loves the power rush it gives him to have someone squirming under his mouth — but Jinyoung and Mark aren't interested in giving him the agency over that tonight. Jinyoung is voicing the same thought: “This is the only way to get you to shut up, isn’t it? At least you’re good for something, baby.”

Jaebeom gurgles. He moans again; fleshy, stuffed full. Jinyoung gets to thrusting into his throat at a perfect pace that Mark could time by the ticking second hand on his Bulgari watch. 

Jinyoung keeps sighing, and Jaebeom’s heaving near-moans on every exhale, gulping in air every time he gets a chance to around the girth of Jinyoung’s cock. Mark licks his lips and tries to read the article about the upcoming Olympics for the third time, a trickle of sweat running down his back under the layers of his turtleneck and suit jacket.

“You love this. Don’t think I can’t tell, baby boy.”

Jaebeom doesn’t disagree, but he’s a little preoccupied.

“I bet you could come just from this. Plug in your ass and my cock in your mouth. Make a mess of yourself on your knees where little sluts belong.” He starts teasing, taking his cock out of Jaebeom’s mouth further and fucking into it more shallowly; he’s playing, and every sound out of Jaebeom sounds more desperate and slobbery than the one before. 

The slick sound of suction stops for a long moment. Mark, feeling impatient, folds down the corner of the newspaper to sneak a peek. Jinyoung’s palming Jaebeom’s hair off of his sweaty forehead tenderly, a gentleness more characteristic to him outside of scenes like this. “Am I right?” he asks in a quiet murmur. “You want to come like this, baby?”

Jaebeom’s cock is practically gushing precome and his arms are already starting to shake from the strain of having them behind him. His chin is covered in spit. His cheeks are still red from Jinyoung’s slaps. 

And yet, there’s still a shred of defiance left in him. He’s frowning up at Jinyoung even in the face of all his sweetness; Mark can see from here the way he’s holding onto whatever shreds of his dignity are left over in his clenched fist. “Isn’t it your job to make me?”

Jinyoung makes a noise of disbelief. “So rude. Like you have anything to contribute.” He crouches down, pouts his thick lips in Jaebeom’s face tauntingly. “You think we have to do anything for you? Hyung and I could leave you here in a heartbeat, all tied up and unfucked. Right, hyung?” They both look over at Mark — two sets of eyes, one self-assured and smug, the other wavering, worry creeping in on the edge of his gaze.

Mark hums. “I don’t need to do anything for a stupid, needy, back-talking whore.” 

Hot, angry flush creeps up Jaebeom’s neck. “I — ”

“You what?” Mark says evenly, slicing through whatever rebuttal Jaebeom had. He folds up the newspaper in his hands with precise, unhurried movements like they’re having a conversation about the weather. “You can say whatever you want but we know the truth. Everyone knows. They all know you’re our little toy and you let us use you however we want.”

Jaebeom’s face goes even stormier, red up to his ears, jaw clenched so hard it looks like it’ll get stuck like that. He blinks hard, a few times in rapid succession like he’s trying to will away the humiliation welling up inside of him.

Mark smirks. Their baby always gets angry right before he breaks. “All the members even know. They know who’s really in charge. How you’re just a come-dumb slut that crawls on your knees to us every time you want cock.”

“You’re _lying,”_ Jaebeom chokes. “They don’t….”

“Are you sure?” Jinyoung teases. “It’s obvious to us how desperate you are.”

“You reek of it,” Mark agrees, turning up his nose like he’s avoiding the stench of Jaebeom’s need. A frisson of excitement zaps down his spine when he hears a hitching, shaky breath. “You came to us begging to get fucked and you think you can play coy now? Please. You’re just a couple of holes for us to fill and everybody knows it.”

Jaebeom's eyes are shiny. He goes to defend himself, but when he opens his mouth all that comes out is a shudder.

“You need it,” Jinyoung says softly, tracing Jaebeom's bottom lip with his fingers, dipping into his warm mouth and pressing on his tongue. He does this — morphs and molds himself into whatever shape Jaebeom most needs. Before, he needed a firm word and a firmer hand. Now, when he’s a couple of encouraging words away from melting into the carpet, Jinyoung will shower him with them. “You do, baby. Let us give it to you. Let Daddy take care of you.”

The dry click of Jaebeom swallowing snaps through the room. Mark's heart thrums, kicking hard in his chest when Jaebeom looks back over to him to see his reaction. He's seeking approval, pupils wide and glittering, bottomless. Needy.

Mark nods once. 

Jaebeom’s eyelids flutter shut, lips closing around Jinyoung’s fingers. A soft beseeching sound crawls out from somewhere high in his throat as he suckles at the tips. 

Jinyoung echoes the pitch, mirroring him in a little hum. “There you go.” They both watch in a trance as the tight, upright line of Jaebeom’s spine unwinds, shoulders dropping down from their rigid, defensive stance. “Good boy.”

Jaebeom opens his mouth around the width of Jinyoung’s knuckles and whines a word. It’s muffled, a little sloppy but sweet and impossible to misunderstand: _“Daddy.”_

Mark has the immense privilege of seeing Jinyoung’s composure crack for the first time in the entire scene. He looks absolutely thunderstruck for a second, swollen pink mouth gaping, huffing a heavy, loud breath. When he snaps back to himself it’s within the blink of an eye, the only evidence of his affectedness in the leftover flush in his ears. “Yes, baby. Come here. Daddy’s gonna give you what you want.”

He takes his fingers out of his mouth and replaces it with his cock — but not before missing his lips, accidentally, and sliding it against him, leaving a slick streak of precome and spit against his cheekbone.

 _Accidentally._ Maybe Mark was too kind. It's definitely not an accident when Jinyoung grips himself at the base and does it again, a little slap, a hefty thunk against Jaebeom's cheek and lips. Jaebeom makes a strangled, embarrassed noise but opens his mouth wider, turns his head to the side to seek out a taste.

Now, Jinyoung gives it to him.

Despite the level of composure Mark's trying to keep, actually being able to see Jinyoung fucking Jaebeom's face is deliciously good. The side view of Jinyoung's strong thighs and ass flexing as he thrusts into Jaebeom's mouth makes him warm all over; Jaebeom's raw red lips wrapped around Jinyoung and sucking like his life depends on it makes his toes curl in his spotless black dress shoes. 

Mark leans back in the armchair and slides his knees apart a little bit. Slow. Giving himself just enough room for his cock to stir. He twists his rings around and around on his fingers and watches Jinyoung smile down at Jaebeom when he blinks up at him slow and dumb and full.

It sneaks up on all of them. Jinyoung's running fingers through Jaebeom's hair and cooing, egging him on as he drools. Jaebeom's panting, whining, and his small cock jumps with Jinyoung's fingertips rubbing against his scalp. Jinyoung grabs a thick handful of raven hair and Jaebeom gasps, eyes rolling back in his head as his cock jerks, jumps again and he comes all over his lower belly and the inside of his thighs without a single touch.

Jinyoung hisses, pulling out of Jaebeom's mouth and squeezing hard around his own cock before the sight sets him off too. “Fuck. Baby couldn't wait any longer, huh?” He leans on the edge of the bed, winded, but makes no effort to try and clean Jaebeom up or help him off of the rug.

Instead, his eyes slide over to Mark, set and certain. “We can’t have that, now can we?”

The mahogany legs of the chair groan as Mark unfolds himself from it, smoothing down the front of his jacket. “Absolutely not.” 

Jaebeom groans, slumping over in place when the heels of Mark’s shoes click on the hardwood. Jinyoung nudges him to sit up straight with his knee and shin, chastising him and kicking at him a little, reminding him to be good.

Not that it matters at this point, as Mark looms over him. It doesn’t matter if he’s good or not now — he was bad, and bad boys deserve punishments. 

Mark stops in the lazy v of Jaebeom’s come-covered thighs. Jaebeom can probably see his reflection in the immaculate shine of his shoes. Mark puts his heel down, toes up, and watches as Jaebeom’s face goes white.

“Who said you were allowed to come?” 

He levers his foot slowly down, down, the leather sole flat against Jaebeom’s softening little cock. 

Jaebeom twitches, hips automatically jumping under the attention despite how sensitive he must be. “Hyung,” he whines, eyes wide and round and drinking Mark in, spacey. 

Mark scowls.

Jinyoung laughs, spread-eagled on his back on the mattress, sweaty and pleased. “You know better than that.”

Jaebeom’s halfway to wrecked after one orgasm, eyes all cloudy, corners of his mouth twisting down as Mark steps on him. “I — fuck, _oh,_ Sir….” He groans, broad chest and biceps straining like he’s trying to hold himself together and Mark can see him trying not to panic at the pain, wincing, barely hanging onto his last ounce of pride by a thread. “I’m sorry,” he gasps.

That just won’t do. “Dumb slut,” muses Mark. “Can't wait to come; can’t think straight after coming one time. Show some respect.”

Jaebeom's shoulders curl in and down in a slump of a bow, submitting, but Mark's not done. He reaches down and grips Jaebeom's chin, cupping it and pulling up, overextending his neck and jaw until they must be aching. “Open.”

Jaebeom finally does as he's told, lips bruised and swelling, pink tongue peeking out like he's gonna get something good for listening.

Mark scoffs down at him, disgusted. He bends over Jaebeom, toe of his shoe pressing hard into his pubic bone, and spits into his mouth.

Jaebeom makes a wounded, guttural sound but Mark's too busy following the string of saliva with his first two fingers, sliding them all the way into his mouth until he chokes and gags reflexively around them. “Take it,” Mark growls. “You want to act like a disrespectful bitch in heat, I'll treat you like one.”

Jaebeom's pretty eyelashes flutter. His eyes are starting to shine a little too brightly, and his breathing is coming in short, staccato bursts. 

Perfect. Mark takes his foot off of Jaebeom's dick. “Lock him up.”

Jaebeom moans in agony around Mark’s fingers as Jinyoung agrees, delighted. The younger man rummages around in their toy box, leaning over the edge of Mark’s bed and putting his perky ass on display. The eyeful is just as good as his triumphant sound when he finds what he’s looking for, a little molded metal contraption and ring connected by a tiny lock. The silvery chains of two long necklaces spill out of Jinyoung’s other hand.

He puts one around his head and crawls over the sheets on his knees to Mark. “One for you and one for me,” he murmurs as he christens Mark with the second chain. He lays it down immaculately, running hot hands down his clothed chest, touching the key and smiling slow and tricky and tempting like the Cheshire cat. 

Mark lets go of Jaebeom’s chin to catch Jinyoung’s wrist before he can stray any further. As easy as it would be to let Jinyoung dig his curious fingers in and pull him apart, that’s not what the plan is for tonight. Instead, he just leans in to kiss him slick and heavy, a promise of more to come. 

Jinyoung smiles against him and tracks kisses down his throat when he notices Jaebeom huffing, mewling pitifully on his knees below them. “Feeling left out?” Jaebeom nods as best he can while he’s skewered with Mark’s fingers. 

Irritation prickles under his skin, down the back of his neck even under the warmth of Jinyoung’s hand. Jaebeom is already lowering his gaze in deference, shuddering and blinking fast like that would do any good. “You’re gonna wish I forgot about you.” He rubs the ball of his foot down. 

Mark’s hand is a pretty good muffler, but Jaebeom still yelps and squirms and twitches under his shoe. He screws his eyes shut and in the process a tear squeezes out, running a thin, shining line down his cheek to drip off of his chin.

“Poor baby. Is Master mean to you?”

Hot sparks fly down Mark’s spine as Jaebeom nods, whines wretchedly and another tear slides from beneath his closed lids.

“You deserve it, don’t you?”

Jaebeom opens his eyes and they’re absolutely owlish in their hugeness, overflowing with tears, eyelashes clumped together. He nods again looking up at the pair of them and cries with Mark’s fingers still in his mouth.

They help him up from his knees and onto his back on the bed. He’s entirely boneless which makes the whole process take longer, maneuvering and manhandling his wrists into the small of his back, laying his broad shoulders flat and thick legs open so Jinyoung can do his magic. 

He holds the tiny gold-plated lock between his teeth as he concentrates. He’s ever so gentle with Jaebeom’s abused cock and balls, wrangling them into the ring one by one and sliding his little shaft into the cage with immense care. 

Jaebeom’s still weeping every so often, teething weakly against his fingertips when Mark stuffs his hand back in his mouth. When he feels the cool steel of the cage latch with the ring, Jinyoung’s clever fingers working the padlock through the hinge and locking him in, he lets out a little half-scream.

Mark talks over it. “Now you can come whenever you want. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Jaebeom whimpers. It’s not that easy and they both know it. But this — the methodical destruction of everything that holds Jaebeom in, keeps him upright and composed and restrained and trapped, a bird in a cage — is what he asked for. Right now he gets to feel everything so much that it narrows his world down to only these breathless moments suspended on the fine, thin spider’s web between pain and pleasure.

He’s had pain. Mark retreats back to his post; he lets Jinyoung dig into Jaebeom like a man famished and crack him open and give him pleasure.

Jinyoung plays stern, loving daddy so well. He coaxes the plug out of Jaebeom’s ass and plays with his hole, gets him sloppy wet with lube and gives him his fingers when Jaebeom begs “please, Daddy, please,” fucks him slow and deep and wide open to make room for his thick cock. He nibbles and bites down on Jaebeom’s nipples, licks them soft and comforting when Jaebeom writhes and weeps under the full force of his attention.

He rolls Jaebeom over onto his stomach and lifts his ass into the air all by his own power, arm muscles rippling. Electricity skitters across Mark’s skin when Jinyoung spreads his cheeks, licks a long, wet stripe over Jaebeom’s hole. He must sense Mark’s eyes because he looks up and does it again, looking straight at him. Jaebeom’s hands are still trapped behind his back and his fingers scratch against nothing as he curses and pleads and cries. 

Jinyoung finally, finally fucks into Jaebeom in slow, calculated measures, squeezing his hands tight around his hips and throwing his head back like it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. Jinyoung and Jaebeom are so in tune like this that even their moans sound like harmonies. Jinyoung knows how to screw in just right, how to make Jaebeom yelp and sigh and scream under him, how when he pistons his hips just like this he can make Jaebeom drool and cry. Which he does. He gets Jaebeom right to the edge with brutal efficiency, sweat gathering on his brow, bottom lip red and trapped between his teeth.

Even in this headspace, calm and collected and cruel, Mark’s having a hard time stopping himself from throwing all caution to the wind and joining right in. They look incredible together. 

Jaebeom gasps, wheezes, tendons in his neck and back and legs strung tight, and makes a sound in the back of his throat like he’s choking. His cock is red and swollen through the cage — it must hurt. Even so, as Mark watches he squirms and clenches his fingers and screams through his second orgasm.

Mark is careful not to show a single second of approval despite the growing, growling, thrashing hunger deep in his gut. He crosses his legs at the ankles, scuffs the toe of his brogue against the hardwood and puts his chin in his hand as Jaebeom sobs into the sheets, come dribbling in a weak stream from his trapped cock, Jinyoung fucking him relentlessly with a big hand wrapped around the back of his neck.

“So good,” Jinyoung groans, stomach tightening as he refrains from slamming harder into Jaebeom. He slows down, looking up at Mark and winking, cocky. Mark’s lips twitch in return. “See? I knew you could be a good boy for Daddy.”

Jaebeom moans and twitches, hiccuping little cries one after the other, thighs shaking and weak but he’s still got his ass in the air, knowing he’ll be punished if he relaxes. The necklace is long enough that the key to his freedom trickles along his spine with every stroke Jinyoung fucks into him. 

Jinyoung only ever gets sloppy when he’s near coming, when he’s feeling weak with the promise of an orgasm tingling in his tummy. Mark can see it in the way his hands shake, the broken, bitten-off curses that spill from his lips.

Mark encourages him. “Doesn’t he feel good, Daddy? All tight and hot and wet for you?”

“Fuck,” Jinyoung moans, mouth hanging open so he can pant. “Yes, hyung, baby feels so fucking good, _god.”_

“Why don’t you fill him up for us? Pump him full of come like he wants.” Jaebeom mewls underneath Jinyoung, still needy, still begging. “Give it to him, Daddy.”

Jinyoung’s fingernails dig little half-moons into the skin of Jaebeom’s neck as he comes. He grinds down, slow and thick in Jaebeom’s ass, fucking his come deep inside, and Jaebeom arches his back, taking it all, cheek pressed into the sheets.

When Jinyoung finally pulls out, exhausted and winded, he still takes a second to appreciate the view. Mark wishes he was closer, that he could see the come leaking out of Jaebeom’s hole and push it back inside but Jinyoung does it for him, sated and content and coming down from the high of domination, happy just to hear Jaebeom still whining for him, for them.

That means Mark’s job isn’t completely done yet.

He rises again from the chair and sheds his tweed jacket, draping it carefully over one of the arms and pushing his sleeves up to his elbows. Jinyoung huffs a fond, amused sound when he spots him in the process. Behind him, Jinyoung tells Jaebeom he can lay all the way down now, if he wants. He can put his arms in front of him now, if he wants.

Jinyoung is laid out, rumpled and glowing in a post-orgasm haze and Jaebeom’s flattened on the bed when he gets there, spent. His knees are close together, surprisingly shy considering everything that came before.

He's so soft as Mark turns him into his back, fucked out and dappled with flush around his eyes and in his cheeks and down his chest, around his abused nipples and trapped wrists and between his legs where his small cock is still chained, chastised. 

Mark curls his necklace around his finger. “You still want me to fill you up.” It’s a question, although it isn’t phrased like it — Mark is more than willing to let Jaebeom stop at this or any other point, knows that this brutal loving is sometimes more than Jaebeom can bear even though he might want to try.

But Jaebeom lets his knees fall open. His eyes are magnetic. “Yes, sir.”

Mark's cock jumps, straining against the inside of his slacks. He pats the edge of the bed. “Put your head here.”

Jaebeom’s barely got any energy left, but he manages it, wriggling into place and looking all moony-eyed up at Mark, blinking slow. It’s such a soft, dumb look that Mark very nearly cracks a smile. “A little further, baby.”

Jaebeom moves so his head lolls over the side of the mattress. His throat is long and his Adam’s apple bobs under the thin, fair skin so beautifully Mark has to lay his hand over it, thumbing delicately over the bump, fingers catching against the short hair at his nape. He can feel Jaebeom’s pulse thrumming under his touch and the tight, hot feeling in his chest drops down, down, down into the pit of his stomach, exploding, going supernova, burning everything else out that isn’t this.

He squeezes the side of Jaebeom’s neck testingly and watches his eyes flutter. Jinyoung makes a little pleased noise, a soft _oh_ in the back of his throat as he watches.

“Undo my fly,” Mark demands, voice coming out gravelly. 

It’s a struggle for Jaebeom to do it upside down and with his hands tied, but he manages, pulls out his cock and does it quick, like a — “good boy.”

He’s so sparing with the praise that Jaebeom’s mouth falls open in shock. “Are you just gonna give me that dumb look all day or are you going to suck me off?”

Jaebeom opens his mouth wider in answer. 

Mark can’t do anything to fight the shiver that comes over him when he finally, finally slides the head of his cock between Jaebeom’s warm, swollen lips. He sucks hard and wet and vigorous, like he hadn’t just been fucked to the end of his wits, like he hadn’t just been drooling all over himself and Jinyoung. Mark thrusts against his face shallowly, testing, and Jaebeom moans loud around him.

That’s a good sign. He goes deeper on each pass, further into the hot, tight clutch of his throat until he bottoms out, can see the outline of his cockhead in Jaebeom’s pharynx. He stays there, staring, rubbing his thumb along Jaebeom’s neck again until he makes a sound like a wild animal, screeching as best he can when his mouth is full of cock, struggling to breathe. 

Mark pulls back and out just to put both of his hands around his throat. “Be good, baby. Use your words.”

“Please,” Jaebeom says. It’s scratchy and blown out and teary, and when Mark presses his thumbs down on his windpipe, reminding him what was just there, Jaebeom begs again, eyes rolling back in his head like he’s still full, like he’s caught up in imagining Mark fucking his face. A sluggish tear slides out of the corner of his eye. “Master.”

He gives him what he wants.

Jaebeom deepthroats Mark like a champ even upside down, gagging for it, sucking until Mark’s thrusts knock him off course and he can only take and take and take, mouth hanging open, tongue a soft cushion. 

After spending so, so long denying himself any excess, every single thing threatens to be the thing that sets Mark off: Jaebeom’s wet noises, the feeling of his moans from the inside of his throat, the heave of his chest; the way Jinyoung stares unblinkingly at the two of them, tongue bitten between his teeth, cheeks pink like he’s just about ready for round two. The rest of the world fades into a colorless blur behind them.

He watches his own hands closing tight around Jaebeom’s neck, pressing down on his veins like it’s happening from a thousand miles away, hears him gasping like a landed fish, sees his toes curl in spite of all of that.

“Hyung,” Jinyoung hums, voice deep and right there next to him, sensing his tunnel vision. 

Mark snarls. 

“Master,” he tries again, and his voice sounds so husky and indulgent and tempting, but Mark can’t possibly tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him. “Do you think our baby’s been good enough?”

“Shit.” Mark pulls back, gives Jaebeom more room to breathe. He shakes, gulps in shuddering lungfuls of air and still, _still_ goes back to suckling at the head of Mark’s cock. “So fucking good. Good, good boy. Good boy.” Jaebeom moans and Mark’s stomach trembles, desire burning through his gut, threatening to burn a hole in him and spill out everywhere.

“He’s been so good for us. For you.”

Mark nods, sinking teeth into the inside of his cheek, sweat prickling on his neck. He’s trying to hold off as long as he can, give Jaebeom everything he wants, make sure he’s taken good care of, give him whatever he needs — but it’s getting harder and harder, and now Mark tastes copper.

Jinyoung brushes warm, dry lips against his cheek, his jaw, his neck. “You can give him what he wants, Master.” 

Mark shudders, chokes out a wounded sound that Jaebeom echoes around his cock. Jinyoung breathes hot against his neck, and Mark can hear the sweet smile in his voice. “You both did so well. You deserve it. Come for us.”

It only takes one, two, three more thrusts and Mark is shaking apart, one hand around Jaebeom’s neck and the other slipping off his sweaty shoulder as he tries to keep himself upright. Jaebeom coughs, sputters a little as Mark pumps him full but he doesn’t complain for a second, kitten licking at his shaft and balls until the scale tips fully into oversensitivity, Mark groaning in pain.

He staggers away. Jinyoung gives him a questioning look but he’s grinning, happy at the end of a successful scene. 

He watches Jinyoung kiss Jaebeom like that, watches him lap at the leftover come on his lips and then gently shift him back up onto the bed, unlocking him from his cage and uncuffing him in a few quick, learned movements. He watches Jaebeom grin lazily up at him and Jinyoung, and roll his wrists around, stretching his back and shoulders, working out the kinks before he can get sore. It's such a mundane movement, so familiar from scenes like this and their everyday lives, but today it makes Mark’s heart thump painfully hard, guilt growing poisonous, twisting, creeping vines in his chest. He did that. He made Jaebeom sore like that; he's the one who took it this far.

Jinyoung’s in front of him, then. Or, Jinyoung turns his head to look at him then, big brown eyes wide and concerned. Mark blinks, dizzy, and it takes a second for him to understand what Jinyoung’s saying. “—ything okay? Oh, hyung, your mouth is bleeding.”

“Yeah,” Mark mumbles, rubbing at his bottom lip with his thumb. There’s blood on it when he looks but it doesn’t hurt. It must be from when he bit his cheek. “‘M good. Check on Jaebeommie.”

“He’s fine,” Jinyoung assures him. Jaebeom keeps murmuring these little contented noises in the background, but Mark’s head’s still stuffed up like it’s full of cotton balls. “I’m going to run a bath, and we’re all getting in it. Okay?”

“Okay.” He watches Jinyoung traipse into the ensuite numbly.

Jaebeom should be absolute jelly at this point, but he still has it in him to scoot over to the edge of the bed and reach out for Mark’s hand. His wrists are an angry, mottled red, and the sight makes Mark’s stomach turn, makes him jump and flinch away.

A momentary hurt flashes across Jaebeom’s face before he can put it away, and the dread in Mark’s chest grows. “S—I’m s—”

“No. Mark.” Jaebeom’s voice is so messed up and gruff from being choked and slapped and gagged, and when he stands up his knees threaten to give out under him. Still, he holds Mark’s face gently in his hands, stares him straight in the eye loving and familiar, the same boy he’s known since they were both sixteen. “Hey. Look at me. I’m okay. A little bath and some shoulder rubs and we’ll all be good as new, huh?”

Mark sucks in a rattling breath. He reaches out his own hand and touches Jaebeom’s nose, the moles over his eyes, his sensitive little earlobe, and the knot in his chest loosens when Jaebeom giggles and squirms away from the touch. It falls apart when Mark leans forward and kisses him and Jaebeom sighs and pulls him in close, still soft around the edges in the moments after total submission. He hums, sweet and pliant and nuzzles into Mark's shoulder.

By the time they separate, Jinyoung’s leaning in the doorway, steam rising out of the opening. “I go to all this trouble for you and this is what I get in return? A peep show?” He’s running his eyes over the both of them even as he jokes, calculating, looking for any physical and emotional knots to be rubbed out of each of them before they inevitably fall asleep in a pile of limbs.

“You could always join us,” Jaebeom insists smugly, wrapping his arm around Mark’s shoulder and tugging him into his side.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Obviously,” Jaebeom trills. 

Jinyoung surveys them both, eyes deadpan but still warm, somehow. “Get over here before I take this bath myself.”

Jaebeom races Mark to the door on wobbly legs, calling out over his shoulder that “hyung is a loser!” It’s not so bad; once he passes into the bathroom, Jinyoung catches him and kisses soft against his temple, cups his hand around the back of his neck and rubs his thumb on the knobs of his spine. Mark’s heart lifts even further. He preens when Jaebeom complains about not getting his own kiss.

It’s not until they’re all three folded together in the bathtub, hand to hand to hand and heart to heart to heart, that Mark remembers the most important part of their little setup: whenever one feels like drowning, they keep each other afloat.

**Author's Note:**

> come be my friend on [twitter](https://twitter.com/sunnyseunie) or [cc](https://curiouscat.me/sunnyseunie) !!! ♥ ♥ ♥


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